Tribute Tales
by Sovereign1598
Summary: A collection of short drabbles and one-shots about tributes in the arena and out of it! Chapter One up now! Rated T because it's the Hunger Games!
1. A CLOSE ENCOUNTER

_**AN: Since I decided to put my SYOT on the backburner and improve my writing skills before I attempt to start it up again! I have decided to start a collection of one-shots to help improve my writing! There just random drabbles about tributes fighting in the Game's. People who read my earlier (discontinued story) might recognize this, but I've lengthened it, improved it and finalised it! Hope you enjoy it! ;)**_

**JULIAN THRONE: DISTRICT FOUR**

Julian gritted his teeth and wrenched the knife from his skin. As it turned out, that Career wasn't the best thrower around; as the silver blade had only ended up impacting his calf, but it still hurt like it was splitting open.

Fresh blood poured from the wound as he crawled away from the sand and into the cover of the palm trees. He has tried to move as far as he could away from the Cornucopia, but had been unable to swim with his leg in so much agony and had so moved towards the nearest piece of land, a large island about fifty metres away from the golden centre of the arena. The dense foliage there offered him a valuable hiding spot from other tributes and a temporary camp until his leg healed.

Looking around for something to pressurize the gaping wound, Julian found nothing to stop the flow of blood. While the other tributes had concentrated on the weapon stations at the training centre in the Capitol, Julian had spent most of his time attempting to learn survival techniques. If he could remember clearly, one of the instructors there had said that the best thing to stop the loss of blood was to use something as a temporary tourniquet. The only thing was available was the thin t-shirt he was wearing. Throwing it off and exposing the bronze skin and rock-hard abs beneath; crafted by years of time at the academy. Tearing it into pieces, he tied it around his leg and knotted it above the deep cut.

Even with the hastily built tourniquet, however, he would still have trouble walking around and defending himself, he needed a safe place to low lie until his mentor could convince his sponsors to send him a real bandage. As soon as that thought crossed his mind however, he dismissed it with a hearty chuckle. Finnick might have the charm and the looks, but Julian doubted he would be able to convince a wealthy Capitol citizen to sponsor him. They would be pooling all their money for someone like that big brute from 2, Hadrian.

Deciding that he would move soon to find a place to rest, Julian opened the sheath of knives that he had fought so hard to acquire during the Bloodbath. He counted ten knives inside, and the one that had hit is leg. Speaking of which, he grabbed the blade with his hand and used a spare piece of shirt to wipe it clean before depositing it into the sheath with the rest. Throwing it over his shoulders, he attempted to stand up slowly, carefully making sure he didn't strain his injured leg. Once he was up and standing steady, he cast a wary look around. This was prime ambush territory and right now, Julian was easy prey.

However, seeing no obvious signs that he was being watched or followed, Julian limped into the wilderness.

* * *

After travelling for over three hours, Julian was weary and night had fallen over much of the arena. His leg ached from over-exertion and the wound had reopened several times already. Time to find somewhere to sleep.

His deep sea-green eyes settled on a very small clearing hid by vegetation and the shadow of the tall trees. It looked like a suitable place to lie low for his first night. He dumped his sheath on the ground and lied down as comfortably as he could with a damaged leg, making sure that his body could not be seen though the tall grass and plants, Julian settled into a restless and unsettling sleep.

* * *

A few hours later he was awakened by the blaring anthem of the Capitol that signalled the kill count for earlier that day. Julian wasn't worried at being awoken; he had had several disturbing dreams, all in which involved him dying an unpleasant death. Sitting up, he turned his gaze to the night sky, lit only by the twinkling stars and the bright full moon. Then they appeared, the faces of the dead. Seven of them. Both from District 3, he sighed that meant the Careers from District 1 and 2 had all survived. Next came the girl from his own District, he didn't know her personally, but it was always upsetting that she was dead already. Both from District 5. The boy from 6 and the boy from 9. It was a surprising number for the first day of the Games, usually over eight tributes were killed in the Bloodbath - and many more were expected in a Games with a pack of bloodthirsty Careers. He doubted the number of deaths would keep the Capitol happy for another day, but it might have been enough to stop the Gamemakers unleashing a rampaging mutt.

Suddenly, Julian stiffened when he heard the unmistakable sound of running footsteps moving in his direction; he slowly turned his head and looked as a tall red-haired boy burst into the clearing. The lanky boy looked like he had just run a marathon, his freckled face was beaded with droplets of sweat and he was bent over breathless. Luckily, Julian had had enough sense to camouflage himself in order to remain hidden, and so the boy didn't take a second loom at where he was lurking. Another handy trick learnt.

His heart quickened as Julian heard more scuffling of feet. Just then, Nickel's eerie form burst through the trees. District 1 Male, Career, and the one that had thrown the knife. He was quickly followed by two companions, Hadrian and a slim and toned blonde female who looked like she had been training her whole life for this moment. All three brandished weapons as they converged on the helpless boy. Nickel carried a rapier that looked like it could cut through skin, bone and muscle in one swipe, Hadrian held a large halberd effortlessly; it's blade still stained with the dried blood of his earlier victims. The golden-haired girl carried an equally deadly weapon, a long spear with a nasty protruding tip.

They circled the boy like vultures, cutting off any method of escape as he stood there, tears now mingling with the sweat rolling down his cheeks as he desperately pleaded with the Careers to let him go. If only there was a way for Julian to help the boy without jeopardising his own safety.

The boy made a futile attempt to escape his killers but before he could even move his feet the spear pierced straight through his chest and embedded itself in the ground beneath his trainers, gallons of sickly blood pouring from the gaping hole just below his heart. Unbelievably, the red-haired boy was still alive, guttering moans and whimpers escaping from his throat before being replaced with even more of the crimson liquid. The girl jogged over in a blink of an eye and wrenched the spear out before hovering it's tip straight over the boy's heart before plunging it in his crumpled form, silencing him forever.

_BOOM!_

As he thunderous noise of the cannon boomed through the arena, Julian had the chance to vomit quietly as he watched the insides of the boy spill out of the holes, unleashing the breakfast he had consumed yesterday morning.

Fortunately the trio of tributes had not heard him and were now busy arguing in a heated debate. Julian remained still and quite long after he head their voices fade away into the night. The Capitol must have been in ecstasy as they watched that death, not to mention shrieking at the fact that I was right at the scene. That was one close encounter.


	2. TOO CONFIDENT

_**AN: Another chapter for my one-shot series, hope you enjoy it and please review!**_

_**Also, I'm writing an SYOT entitled 'Rule of Three: The 100**__**th**__** Annual Hunger Games'. I need tributes and would be grateful if you sent some in!**_

_**Anyway here's the one-shot:**_

**NICKEL GOLDSTONE DISTRICT ONE**

Five seconds in and he was already earning his first kill. His parents would be so proud.

The small brown-haired boy was gasping on the ground, struggling to get back. Nickel smiled as he restrained him, oblivious to what was happening around him and only caring about how he would carry out this glorious moment.

Looking around, he found the perfect instrument to deliver the killing bow only a few inches away; a sharp medium-sized rock. He reached over for it, but at that moment he felt a heavy blow to his chest.

Nickel fell to the ground, nestling his chest as he looked above him. The boy was holding a knive in his hand and was about to plunge it straight into him. He laughed sadistically before grasping the rock and hitting it into his wrist, the boy dropped the knife and crying out in pain. Nickel shoved him to the ground once more and straddled his stomach, forgetting about his weapon and instead using only his hands. He punched him as hard as he into his chest, winding him before letting another blow bash straight into the ribs, he heard a few crack under the extreme force and let loose a grin.

Finally, thinking that he had already wasted enough time on this pathetic specimen beneath him, he grabbed his head and smashed it against the ground , a mad hunger consuming him as the boy's skull cracked and blood poured out and it was obvious that he was past dead, yet Nickel didn't stop.

That was until he felt an arrow pierce his neck

_**AN: Well yes, not my best work and quite short! But it's a one shot so…**_


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